


to keep me awake and alive

by whyyesitscar



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: Ayda’s skin is soft, the safety of campfires, the warmth of paper burning just before it chars.“Fig. You’re staring.”“Yeah,” you wink. “On purpose.”//sometimes you just gotta be soft, cheesy gfs in love
Relationships: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	to keep me awake and alive

**Author's Note:**

> you guys might be surprised to learn that moving during a pandemic kinda sucks all creative inspiration out of someone! i can feel my brain starting to atrophy, and so here this is, written very quickly and because i need to start turning all these post-it notes of ideas into actual stories.
> 
> title + lyrics from "in your eyes" by peter gabriel. please enjoy!

_in your eyes, i see the light and the heat.  
_ _in your eyes—oh, i want to be that complete._  
_i want to touch the light,  
_ _the heat, i see in your eyes._

/

“Okay, so, you’ve been knocked unconscious before.”

“Unfortunately.”

“And you know, when you come back up, sometimes you’re seeing double.”

“Yes.”

“It’s that, but on purpose. Only the sweet spot is juuuust before everything completely blurs out.”

“Is everything on purpose with you?”

“I—” You turn to look at her—curious wide eyes, the flames inside flickering quickly the way they do when she’s waiting for an answer. They cast the smallest of shadows on her cheeks, dancing across her golden freckles. Ayda’s skin is soft, the safety of campfires, the warmth of paper burning just before it chars.

“Fig. You’re staring.”

“Yeah,” you wink. “On purpose.”

Ayda doesn’t blush, and she’s mostly gotten her hair under control now when she’s anxious or excited about something you’ve done. But her lips always betray her, quirking upwards even if it’s just for the briefest moment. You notice because you’re so close, but you’re pretty sure you’d notice from any distance. Your eyes are always searching for her, will always find her first in a room when she’s your favorite person to look at.

You take a deep breath when she looks like she’s going to interrupt you again. “Everything is on purpose with me,” you reply. Ayda doesn’t like questions left unanswered and you always have an answer to give, even if it’s to admit that you don’t know. It seems like Ayda relishes the times you don’t know things the most, because they let you learn together. You have so much uncertainty bubbling inside of you, and no one has ever celebrated it the way Ayda does.

Fabian loves to give you shit for going so hard in your first relationship, but like. Why wouldn’t you want to go all-in when someone so quickly feels like home?

Ayda’s hand is waiting for you when you reach down, tangling your fingers together before you even have time to think about it.

She tickles a calloused finger across your knuckles, smirking at the giggle she elicits. “I’m holding your hand deliberately. I knew there was a very high probability you would reach for mine.”

You smile. “Yeah, exactly. You get it.”

The runes on Ayda’s arms flare and she chirps, just a little bit, before kissing the top of your head. It’s like—it’s wild, every time you’re with Ayda. Every time she kisses first, or holds your hand, or tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. You know she isn’t like this with everyone, that she stays away from most physical contact because it can be a tricky area to navigate.

Ayda is chivalrous, capital-R romantic once you learned how to speak her language. You’ve never felt so full of honor as you do whenever she touches you without asking first.

You lean into her kiss, tilt your head so she has a better angle to find your mouth. Ayda sighs, small and light—something you don’t hear so much as feel. You pick up your joined hands and snuggle into her side, guiding her arm to drape over your shoulder. She’s warm no matter where you touch her and you love to feel the weight of her against you, the security and promise of her presence.

“Would you like to rest? Or should we continue this exercise in cloud-watching? Daylight continues to dwindle.”

You wait for a while, appraising her with a smile as you prop yourself up on an elbow. Ayda’s arm stays where it is, even though it’s probably not that comfortable.

“I love the way you speak, you know? I don’t know anyone who talks like you.”

“You’re a singular individual as well, Fig.”

“No, I—thank you. I didn’t mean it as, like, a competition thing, but that’s really great to hear. I just—”

You watch Ayda as you think, as you sink into where you are and how you got here. Junior year starts in just over a week; you’ve only been dating a few months. You’re watching the clouds and the sunset in the middle of a clearing in the woods near school, but far enough away that Ayda doesn’t have to see the building. If you were here with your mom or any one of your dads, you’d be complaining about the bugs, or the thin grass, the bumps and sticks in the dirt beneath you. How boring it is to just look at the sky when you could be getting in some valuable practice time with the band.

But you’re here with Ayda and the sky looks like her. The bugs keep their distance from the pair of you because you exude so much heat. You can’t feel any rough spots on the ground because your blanket is so soft, the blanket you asked Adaine to enchant with fire resistance. Fire runs off of Ayda’s hair and wings, skipping its way from corner to corner, from your fingers to your feet, and nothing burns.

You cock your head and smile, wishing the tears in your eyes were fire, too.

“I just really love you,” you finish.

“Fig.” Ayda blurts your name almost before you stop speaking. She opens and closes her mouth, clenches her jaw, breathes deeply. Her thumb presses insistently against the back of your neck until you can see her thoughts calm, like papers falling gently to settle in a pile on the floor.

“I often have to do extensive research before I can recognize how individual emotions sit within my mind. The ways I process and manifest them are not common to other people, and they’re not always consistent across my lifetimes. My feelings for you are the first I’ve understood without having to learn.”

“Yeah?”

Ayda’s wing twitches and curls a lick of flame around your leg. “I love you immeasurably, Fig,” she murmurs.

You lean down to kiss her, humming your approval when she wraps her arm tight around your waist. Ayda creates so many shapes with her body, lines and curves and dips that you somehow always seem to fill. You love to press into her, to lie next to her and wait for her to pull you in. You’ve spent so much time in disguises, trying on people like costumes to see what might fit.

Ayda is the only part of your life where you’re comfortable just being you.

You settle back into her side, tucking your horns into the crook of her neck. “I bet we could,” you mumble into her collarbone.

“What could we do?”

“Measure it.”

“I intend to,” she promises, solemn and honest like a knight. “I’ve already started writing down our escapades—not as instructions for my future incarnations, but as records of great historical importance. Wizards shall know the legend of Figueroth Faeth, paramour to Ayda Aguefort, as long as there is magic in the world.”

“Okay, well, I’m immortalizing you in music.”

“I am, effectively, already immortal.”

“You’ve got a bunch of lifetimes to fill books; I already wrote a whole album about you.”

“Incredible. I am...going to cry. A kiss would be a welcome distraction.”

“How about six?”

/

(When Ayda next visits the Compass Points, she comes back with three thick journals, all of them filled to the last page.

She’s happy to provide you with many distractions, this time).


End file.
